


31 Degrees

by pippinmctaggart



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Heat Stroke, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, No Billys were hurt in the filming of this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 21:38:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3952684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pippinmctaggart/pseuds/pippinmctaggart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dom cools Billy down. And then heats him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	31 Degrees

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://stumphed.livejournal.com/profile)[**stumphed**](http://stumphed.livejournal.com/) , who gave me this bunny: _"You should write some Monaboyd where they're stuck at home together with a broken AC and it's like 8 million degrees outside."_ Done. :)
> 
> And gratefulness as always to [](http://1420.livejournal.com/profile)[**1420**](http://1420.livejournal.com/) for the beta. Any mistakes are mine.

“Don’t you even think about touching me, Dom.”

“Ah, come on, Billy,” Dom wheedled. “It’s not _that_ hot.”

“What the fuck are you smoking?” Billy demanded, but with very little force. He was too tired to expend the energy.

“Do you really think lying in the middle of the living room floor is the coolest place to be?”

“Yes.”

Dom sat cross-legged beside him. “You’ve lived here for a year now. When are you going to acclimate?”

“Apparently never. Have you called the repairman yet?”

“Yes. But it’ll be a while.”

“How long?” Billy asked apprehensively.

“Tomorrow.”

“I’ll die before then,” he moaned.

“You will not,” Dom said briskly. “And of _course_ there’s a wait. Nobody knows their air conditioning is broken until they try to turn it on during a heatwave.”

“Aha,” he said faintly. “You think it’s fucking sweltering too.”

“Yes, it’s quite warm, Billy, but it’s not _that_ hot.”

Billy raised his head off the floor to look at Dom in disbelief. “Dom, it’s hotter than hell. In fact, we should open the windows onto hell, just to let in the cool breeze.” He dropped his head again.

Dom laughed out loud. “Melodramatic little princess, aren’t you?”

“Princess?” Billy protested, feebly lifting a hand to half-heartedly wave it about. “Come on, put your nose near my fist, wanker.”

Dom shook his head mock-sadly, sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”

Billy let his arm fall back to the floor. “In a couple hours you can mop me up and sluice me out into the gutter.” He rolled his head to press his cheek to the cool hardwood. It quickly warmed to match his heat, and he straightened his neck with a dissatisfied noise.

“Come on, Bills,” Dom said bracingly. “Get up and do something and you won’t think about it so much. Distract yourself, that’s the key.”

“Distract _this_ , twat.” Billy made a rude gesture.

“I thought you didn’t want me to touch you,” Dom shot back.

“Why can’t you just leave me to incinerate in peace?” he groaned. “And keep your voice down, I’ve got a beast of a headache.”

“Because you lying in the middle of the floor whingeing is driving me mad--“

“ _Whingeing_?”

“--and for that matter, if you’re so fucking hot, why are you wearing jeans and a shirt? Take them off, let the air cool your skin,” Dom insisted.

“Finally. A potentially useful suggestion,” Billy grumbled. Moving nothing but his arms, he began fumbling with the button on his jeans. “Besides, I just got home. Do you expect me to rush about in this bloody heat?”

“Just? Billy, you’ve been home nearly an hour. I’m surprised your arse isn’t falling asleep from lying on the hardwood so long.” Dom tugged at the ankles of the jeans as Billy lifted said arse up to slide the trousers down over his hips, holding the waistband of his cotton boxers to keep them in place. When Billy dropped himself back to the floor, he went limp, and Dom, snorting a little, finished removing his jeans. “All right, Bills, t-shirt next.”

“Fuck. Give me a minute,” he muttered.

“Come on, I don’t have all day just to undress you, y’know. I’ve got...things to do.”

“What things?”

Dom floundered for a minute. “Just-- _things_ , okay?”

“’S what I thought. You just want to go back online.”

Dom reddened to be caught so easily. “All right, yes. I was in the middle of a game before, and I’d like to finish it.”

Billy chuckled weakly. “I knew it, you addict.”

He wryly grinned. “Yes, I know, I’m hopeless. Now come on, Bills, sit up.” He leaned forward to take Billy’s hands in his, tugged him abruptly upright. “Just lift--“

“Oh shite,” Billy suddenly groaned in a strangled voice. He launched himself to his feet and before Dom could move, he was running, stumbling, rushing into the bathroom and vomiting noisily into the toilet.

Dom hurried after him, found him kneeling on the mat in front of the porcelain base, retching, his back arched painfully up. Dom stood behind him, bare feet straddling Billy’s calves, and reached around to firmly hold his forehead in one cool, capable, long-fingered hand. “Bill. You’re awfully hot. Why didn’t you tell me?”

If Billy hadn’t been currently occupied heaving up lunch, breakfast, and possibly even last night’s sushi dinner, he would have laughed. Instead he groaned. And retched again.

“Where was this book signing you were at today? Was it outside?”

In between spasms, Billy managed to blurt out, “Yes. Beach,” before being sick yet again.

“Did you drink water?” Dom frowned, concerned.

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“Bottle,” he whispered raggedly, panting.

“Just one? Bloody hell, Bill, you were outside for four hours. What were you thinking? You know you get dehydrated easily.”

“Kept getting handed drinks,” he choked, then his entire frame heaved again.

“Alcohol?”

When he could, Billy forced out, “Maybe. Don’t know. Fruity. Thought I was all right.”

“You’re such a fuckwit sometimes, love,” Dom scolded gently, rubbing his other hand up and down Billy’s back. “You were in the sun the whole time, too, weren’t you?”

“Mostly.” He gave one last dry retch, then after a moment weakly slumped to the side, leaning his head against the cool bathtub, sweat beading his face and neck, darkening a V on his t-shirt. “There was no shade,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath. “Nowhere to buy water. Stupid fucking piss-poor organization.”

“Poor Bills. Why didn’t you say something when you came in?” Dom hit the handle, flushing the toilet.

“Didn’t feel so bad then. Just felt hot.”

“Of all the days for the fucking air conditioner to pack it in,” Dom muttered. He knelt down next to Billy and put a hand on his forehead again. “You’re awfully warm. Can you get up, love? Rinse your mouth, and then come lie down?”

“Yeah. Wanna lie down. Feel like shite,” he panted, still breathing quickly.

“I know. Don’t worry, we’ll get you cooled down. Get up slow, you might find you’re dizzy.” Dom gripped his elbows and stood, pulling Billy up with him. He did indeed wobble a bit, but soon had his balance again. “All right, Bills?”

“All right.” He took the two steps to the sink, and using the glass there, rinsed his mouth out. Dom handed him mouthwash, and he quickly swirled that over his tongue as well, and then drank a glass of cold water. He was about to down another one when Dom stopped him.

“Don’t. It’ll make you sick again. Let’s get you on the bed, and then I’ll bring you something to drink, yeah?” He led Billy into the bedroom, stripped the covers off the bed down to the fitted sheet, sat him on the edge of the mattress, and pulled his damp t-shirt off over his head. “Lay down, then.”

“I’m sorry, Dom,” Billy muttered as he collapsed back onto the bed. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m such a fuckwit.” He sighed as Dom pulled the blind all the way down over the window, making the room blessedly dim.

“Shh,” Dom said, leaning over to kiss his hot, sweaty forehead. “Everything’s fine. I’ll be back in a second.” He returned a moment later, the fan from the living room in his hand. He stood it by the closed window, plugged it in, switched it to oscillate. It would at least keep some air moving across Billy’s skin. “I’ll be right back with your drink, love.”

Billy tossed and turned, trying to find a cool spot on the bed linen and failing, for the few minutes it took for Dom to return.

“Can you sit up a bit, love? Just a bit. I’ve got your drink here for you.” He also had a large bowl in his hand, which he set down on the nightstand, pushing the alarm clock aside. When Billy propped himself up against the wall at the head of the bed, Dom handed him a glass. “It’s one of those sports drinks. It’ll replace your electrolytes. Well, it’ll be a start, anyway.”

Billy took a sip, made a face. “It’s not even cold, Dom,” he said miserably, still breathing fast.

“No, cold would just shock your system and probably make you throw up again. But it’s cooler than you are,” he said gently, stroking Billy’s face, smoothing the damp hair off his forehead. “So drink it up, and then I’ll get to cooling _you_ off.”

“How do you know it’s the heat, and not just flu, or bad sushi?” he asked in a small voice, just before drinking thirstily.

Dom lightly touched the end of the glass to catch Billy’s attention. “Slow down a bit,” he cautioned. “We had to sit through a lecture on heat exhaustion, among other things, on the set of ‘Lost’. It can get warm on the beach in Hawaii, and if you’re active it can really take it out of you. Especially,” he rubbed Billy’s kneecap, “if you don’t drink your water.”

“I’m sorry, Dom--“ he started apologizing again.

“Shut it, love. You had all the symptoms. Increased body temperature, headache, vomiting. But you’re sweating, so I knew it wasn’t heat stroke, which is the really serious one. Lucky for you I learned all this. You’ll be fine, we just have to get you cooled down--I just hope you realize I’m going to be watching you like a hawk from now on,” Dom smiled.

Billy swallowed the last of the drink, handed the glass back to Dom. “I don’t mind.”

“Good. Now lie down on your back.” He put the glass on the nightstand, picked up the bowl of water and set it carefully on the mattress, held fairly securely between his hip and Billy’s. He dipped a washcloth in the water, squeezed the excess out without wringing it too tightly. “Ready? This will feel quite cold at first, even though it’s not.”

“’M ready,” he mumbled.

Dom gently wiped Billy’s forehead, smiled at the moan of relief it elicited. “I take it that’s a good thing?” he teased as he stroked Billy’s temples, then his cheeks, and across his chin before rinsing out the cloth.

“God, yeah,” Billy breathed.

“Good.” Dom put the cloth back against Billy’s chin, then swiped it down his throat, replacing the beads of sticky sweat with droplets of cool clear water. He smoothed it across his collarbone, first one shoulder, then the other, and down the centre of his chest, leaving a trail of cooling moisture behind. Every few minutes he rinsed out the cloth, making sure it stayed fresh and damp. He noticed Billy’s breathing began to slow from its rapid pace, saw that the pulse that throbbed hotly in his throat was easing as well. He bathed that pulse point once more before wiping the cloth across the insides of his elbows. Picking up each hand one by one, he dampened Billy’s wrists to let the moisture cool the thin skin there, and scrubbed across his sweaty palms. “All right, my Bill?” he asked softly.

“All right, my Dom.” Billy even lifted one corner of his mouth in a wobbly smile.

“Good. Roll over, then.”

Without opening his eyes, Billy did so, rolling onto his stomach and automatically turning his face towards Dom.

Dom soaked the cloth again, squeezed it out, laid it on the back of Billy’s neck.

Billy let out a heartfelt groan. “Oh God, Dom… I thought I was going to die, but you’ve saved me.”

“Yeah. Just as I thought. Melodramatic little sod,” Dom teased.

“’S better than princess, anyway,” Billy murmured against the smooth cotton sheet, his smile a little less wobbly this time.

Dom chuckled quietly. He continued to drag the cloth against Billy’s back, down his spine, across his ribs. Lifted it to dip it in the water, brush the backs of Billy’s knees, letting the water sit there to cool the blood through the tender skin.

Making sure the cloth was good and wet, Dom spread it out on Billy’s back, positioning the top portion to lay on the back of his neck, covering as much surface area as possible. “Lay still, Bills, I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Where are you going?” he murmured.

“To get colder water.”

The idea reduced Billy to an inarticulate grunt of appreciation.

When Dom returned with the basin, it was full of tap water as cold as he could get it by running it for a few minutes. He also brought a large bottle of water from the fridge. Now that Billy had started to cool down a bit, it wouldn’t shock his system, and he needed to get fluids in him. Dom set them on the nightstand, picked up the now-warm washcloth from Billy’s back, and leaned over to drop a featherlight kiss on his shoulder.

“Mmm,” Billy almost whimpered.

“How do you feel, my dear?” Dom asked softly, concerned by that sound.

“Better,” he whispered. “Still too warm, but I don’t feel like I’m about to burst into flames.”

“Well, that’s something, then,” Dom smiled. “How’s your headache? Still beastly?”

“Yeah. Slightly less vociferous.”

“Back to the big words, eh? That’s a good sign,” he teased gently. “Can you roll over and sit up a bit for me? I’ve got water for you to drink, and I’ll get something for your head.”

Billy took a deep breath, as if to gird himself up for what was sure to be an exhausting exercise, and turned over, shifting himself up a bit. He slumped back against the wall. “I’m getting the sheets damp.”

“’S okay. I can change them later.” Dom handed him the tall water bottle. “Don’t drink it too fast, but drink as much as you can.”

Billy took the bottle, but rested it against his hip for a moment. “I feel like an overcooked noodle.”

“What kind?” Dom rose and opened a drawer in his dresser, finding a small bottle and shaking two white tablets out of it. He closed the drawer and returned to Billy. “Here.”

Billy took them in his other hand. “Thanks. Dunno--somen, maybe?” He swallowed the pills one at a time, washing them down with long swallows of water.

Dom frowned again. “You feel…what? Thin and delicate? Have I got the right noodle?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. Don’t know about delicate, but I feel sort of thin and drawn out and limp, like I’ve been stretched too far.” He drank again, trying to quench the thirst that burned in his throat. “Was going to say like butter scraped over too much toast, but that’s been used.”

Dom stroked his hand across Billy’s thigh. “My poor Bills. Limp, huh? All right, drink a little more, then lay down again. I’ll keep up with the water, see if we can’t firm you up a bit.”

Billy couldn’t help a snigger at that, and nearly choked on his mouthful of water. He swallowed, coughed, breathlessly said, “Well, you’ve never had a problem doing that to me before.”

Dom grinned. “Someone’s feeling better.” He took Billy’s bottle and set it on the nightstand, helped him slide back down to lay flat. He wedged the bowl between them again, swished the cloth around in the water. It felt cold to his fingertips, it was going to feel frigid to Billy’s overheated skin. “This is going to feel like ice,” he warned.

“Good. Put it over my face.” He closed his eyes.

Dom wrung the cloth out a little, spread it out between his fingers, and lowered it over Billy’s face.

Billy gasped, stiffened, then suddenly wilted, imitating the overcooked noodle he claimed to feel like. “ _Fuck me_ ,” he breathed.

Dom chuckled. “I don’t think you’re up for it, my love.”

“I’ve never felt anything so good in my life,” Billy moaned. “Do it again. Rinse it out and do it again.”

Dom laughed out loud. “I wish you were moaning those words to me instead of a face flannel.” But he did as Billy asked, cooling the cloth again before dropping it over his face.

“Ahh,” Billy groaned. “What--rinse it out? I can say that next time, if you like.”

Dom gave his leg a little push. “Cheeky bugger. Shall I keep going, or would you rather I leave it there for a bit longer?”

“No, keep going.”

Dom pulled the still-cool cloth down until it flopped onto Billy’s neck, making him jump a bit. The water in the bowl sloshed, and Dom eyed it warily until it calmed again. He soaked the cloth again, squeezed the excess out but left it still nearly dripping. He wiped it across Billy’s chest, over the pulse in his throat, enjoying the gasps the cold contact produced. Swiped it down across his nipples, over his ribs, even poked it briefly into his navel, making Billy twitch. The wet skin he left behind cooled Billy far faster than Billy would have thought possible. Dom rinsed the cloth and moved down to Billy’s legs to bathe them in cold as well, holding the dripping fabric deliberately longer high against the insides of his thighs, knowing that would feel colder there than almost anywhere else on his body.

Billy moaned again. “Oh God, Dom, that feels so good.” A shiver raised the hairs on his arms and legs, cooling him further. “So good,” he murmured again.

Dom felt his cock jump. He swallowed, cleared his throat. “Good.” He dipped the cloth in the basin again, the thought that it was so warm from the heat of Billy’s inner thighs making him suddenly, unexpectedly, very hard. He groaned.

“What?” Billy asked, frowning, eyes still closed.

“Uh--nothing. Just thought of something,” Dom stammered. “It can wait.”

“All right.” Billy gusted out a sigh as Dom dragged the cloth down first one leg, then the other, and finally washed his feet with the cool water. “God, Dom. You have such gorgeous hands. Such lovely, talented hands.”

“I’ll be right back,” Dom managed, albeit in a rather strangled voice. “More water.” He picked up the basin and fled from the room. In the bathroom, he set the bowl down, tossed the washcloth in the sink, and leaned over, bracing his hands on the edge of the vanity. Where the fuck had this hard-on come from, he wondered desperately. Billy was ill, Dom needed to look after him, not get fucking turned on by sounds that were _not_ being made out of arousal. He breathed deeply, wrestling his wayward desire down until his cock was a little less stiff. He ran the cold water tap, splashed his face, then dried off on a towel. He thoroughly rinsed the cloth he was using on Billy, emptied and refilled the basin, and returned to the bedroom.

Billy had obviously sat up to drink more water, as the empty bottle lay on the bed. He opened his eyes as Dom sat beside him again. “All right, my Dom?”

“All right, my Bills,” he responded, hoping Billy wouldn’t see that his answer wasn’t entirely accurate.

No such luck. Billy propped himself up on his elbows and looked at him closely. Then he smiled. Then he grinned. Then he laughed. “Who’s hot now?” he teased lovingly.

Dom feigned innocence. “What are you talking about? Lay down, I’ll go over you with the cloth again.”

Still smiling, Billy laid down. Finally cooled down somewhat, he did feel a lot better. A little achy, the headache still present, but not quite so…limp. He kept the grin to himself this time, and wondered how long it would take Dom to notice that he had indeed ‘firmed him up’. If Dom was as horny as Billy thought he was, he would probably avoid even looking at Billy’s crotch, so it might take a while. Good, he thought. Time for a bit of fun, then.

Dom laid the cloth over Billy’s neck again, smoothing it down until it covered every inch of skin from his chin to his collarbone and down each side, and for a moment Billy forgot his plan, forgot his name, forgot everything but the blessed relief cooling his overheated blood. He moaned deeply, head lolling to the side, shifting the wet fabric on his skin, and his breath hitched at the sensation. It wasn’t until he felt Dom stiffen and shift at his side that he came back to himself, knew he wasn’t quite ready yet, knew he’d have to draw this out a bit.

“That feels nice, love,” he said quietly.

“Good,” Dom said, a little relieved. He could handle Billy talking. He just couldn’t handle Billy moaning and twisting on the bed. A bloody _saint_ couldn’t stay immune to his lithe Billy making those sounds while mostly naked.

“Can I ask you a favour?”

“Of course,” Dom said, surprised. “Anything you want.”

Billy hesitated, a smile ghosting over his lips so rapidly Dom wasn’t even sure he’d seen it. “Could you fetch me another bottle of water? I’m still thirsty.”

“Of course, love. I should have thought of that, sorry.” He disappeared, returning a moment later with another bottle. He moved the basin to the nightstand while Billy shifted up against the wall yet again. The wet cloth stayed plastered to his neck, only the edge falling from his chin as he opened his mouth to drink. Dom reached around the bottle to lay a hand on Billy’s forehead and check his temperature. He was relieved to find Billy much less hot than he had been, in fact now only as warm as he might be after a workout. “You feel cooler. A bit less like an overcooked somen noodle, I hope?”

Billy swallowed, lowered the bottle, smiled. “Yeah. Much firmer now.” He nudged Dom with his knee.

Dom laughed, and he had himself firmly under control, but Billy could still see the desire smoldering in his eyes. “Good. Here, give me the cloth.” He reached out and pulled it off, dropping it in the basin. “Is that still helping? Do you want me to keep going, or would you just rather nap for a bit?”

Billy didn’t answer for a moment, busy as he was sucking back half the bottle of water in one go. Finally he stopped, gasped a bit as he handed the bottle to Dom, stretched out on the bed again, this time face down. He artfully said, his voice soft with a twinge of begging to it, “Just a little longer? Please? I know you want to go, but it’s helping so much.” He thought maybe he’d overdone it with that, felt a little bad even for using the situation, but as soon as Dom laid the cloth back against his skin, he realized with a sigh that it was just truth. It _was_ still helping.

“Of course, Bills,” Dom said gently. “I don’t want to go anywhere, not if I can make you feel better.”

“Love you, my Dom,” Billy whispered.

“Ditto, my Bills,” he smiled back.

For the next ten minutes, both were completely silent as Dom tenderly, methodically bathed every inch of Billy’s back, arms, and legs with the washcloth. When he finished and Billy rolled over, pausing to prop himself up and drink more water, he sat back, expecting Billy to want to sleep now. He was wrong.

Billy felt almost back to normal, barring a little weakness in his muscles, and the rush of love and gratitude he felt for Dom’s gentle care made him smile. He turned himself on the bed, laying across its width, and laid his head in Dom’s lap, nuzzling into his hip. “Thank you, Dominic. Thank you for helping me. I’m sorry I’m such a terrible bother.”

Dom smiled fondly down at him. “You’re not. Of course I’ll help you, you silly wee cunt. How could I not when I adore you so?”

“I meant it. Thank you.”

“I know. I meant it too.”

“I know.”

Dom stroked his hair. “Do you want me to do your front once more?”

Billy nodded, rolling to lay on his back but staying widthwise across the bed, his feet hanging just over the other edge. “Yes, please. It feels so good. I’m almost glad the air conditioner’s packed it in.”

Dom wrinkled his nose as he clambered onto the bed to sit in the middle beside Billy. “You won’t be when you’re trying to sleep tonight. But at least we know there’s only one more day, and then it will be fixed.” He reached for the bowl and set it beside him, scooping up the cloth and wringing it gently. “Do you have anything on tomorrow? I can’t remember what was on the calendar.”

Billy wracked his brain, his forehead wrinkling. “I can’t remember either. Nothing vital, apparently.”

“Good. Because I think you should take it easy tomorrow.” Dom laid the cloth over those wrinkles, knew they’d smoothed out when Billy released a deep sigh.

“You just want to keep me for yourself,” he murmured.

Dom smiled. “You spotted my secret ulterior motive.”

“It was difficult. You’re a _super-secret_ secret-agent, Double-Oh-Two.”

Dom gently swiped the cloth against Billy’s eyes for the first time, knew the cold would feel good there now. He was proven right when Billy sighed again, quickly, ending with a little whimper.

“Double-Oh-Two?” Dom asked, a hitch in his breath.

“Like Double-Oh-Seven. You know, licensed to kill?” Billy said softly, inhaling through his mouth. “Haven’t you ever wondered about numbers one through six?”

“You’re a mad bugger, you are,” Dom chuckled. “And what can numbers one through six do?”

“Well, if seven is licensed to kill, then six is licensed to maim. And five would be licensed to go mental on someone’s arse.”

Dom was grinning. “A complicated title. Bet they have trouble printing that on the business cards.”

“Very small type.”

He laughed, rinsed out the cloth, bathed Billy’s chest, trying not to stare as a pink tongue darted out to moisten dry lips. “And--and Double-Oh-Four?”

Billy groaned as the washcloth passed over his nipples, up one shoulder and down that arm, sighed as Dom pulled it across his palm, tempted to close his fist around it and hang on.

“Double-Oh-Four?” Dom asked again, his voice deeper than it had been.

“Licensed to start getting really rather nasty. And three is to Glesga kiss.”

“Head-butt?” Dom smiled again, trying to ignore the way Billy’s chest had risen ever so slightly to meet the cloth before he swiped it down the other arm.

“Head-butt _really_ hard. Glasgow-style.”

“And poor Double-Oh-One? What can he do?” Dom rinsed out the cloth, wiped it across Billy’s forehead again before continuing on its previous path down his chest.

“Double-Oh-One is licensed to poke with a stick.”

Dom couldn’t help but laugh at that, even though he was almost afraid to ask what Double-Oh-Two was, if Billy had called _him_ that.

“And Double-Oh-Two,” Billy continued before Dom had to force himself to ask, “is licensed to--oh God, Dom, that feels so good,” he moaned as Dom swiped the cold wet cloth down first one side, then the other, water trickling along the path of his ribs to dampen the sheet where it met his back. He twisted a little as the cloth moved back up to his chest. “Feels so good, love. Two is licensed to bruise just a little.”

“Billy,” Dom whispered huskily, breathing hard, hand splayed across the washcloth, not noticing his index finger was pressing down on Billy’s nipple through the coarse fabric.

Billy moaned again, arched off the bed against that hand, feeling the cloth scrape over him. “Dom. Jesus, Dom, would you fucking kiss me already?” he said roughly, reaching out to yank Dom down on top of him with surprising strength, considering the day he’d had.

Dom gave a little cry as he fell onto Billy’s chest, the washcloth cold on his dry skin. He hungrily claimed Billy’s mouth, scrambling to climb on top of him, bare legs squeezing Billy’s thighs, hands on either side of Billy’s head. He didn’t even notice he’d kicked the basin until Billy sucked the air out of his mouth with a heaving gasp, a feeling so intimate Dom’s cock strained painfully at his fly, and he forced himself to lift his head and look at the large wet stain on the sheet, at Billy’s soaked boxers. “Shite. Bugger. I’ll--I’ll  change the sheet,” he panted. “I can do it in a flash--“

“Don’t bother,” Billy rasped, pulling Dom’s head back down to his and kissing him fiercely, thrusting his tongue into his mouth. Swirled his way across the slippery insides of Dom’s cheeks, tangled their tongues together. Released him enough to softly nibble, suddenly gentle, on Dom’s lip. “It’ll keep me cool while I make you come,” he growled, his voice at odds with his tender actions.

“Oh God, Bills,” Dom groaned, head tilting back as Billy nibbled and nipped his way down the rough jaw line to his neck. “We shouldn’t be doing this. You need to rest--“

Billy reached down to insinuate a hand between them and palm Dom’s erection through his shorts, wondering if he was wearing pants today. As Dom moaned and pressed himself hard into Billy’s hand, Billy whispered, “I _want_ that. Don’t you want me, too, Dom?”

“Fuck yes,” he ground out, lifting one hand from the side of Billy’s head and shoving it between them to stroke Billy’s cock through his boxers, not the least surprised to find Billy as hot and hard as he was. “God, yes, Billy.”

Given the expected permission, Billy wrapped his arms around Dom’s back and rolled them. His wet skin and pants quickly cooled in the air being circulated by the fan, keeping him from feeling uncomfortably warm again as he took Dom’s mouth in a hard, swift kiss, his hand sliding under the waistband of Dom’s shorts to discover no, no pants today. He grinned against Dom’s lips, whispered, “You little hussy.”

Dom laughed breathlessly, arching up to drive his cock against Billy’s hip. “Oh fuck, you feel so good, Bill. Until you started puking earlier, my plan had been to seduce you as soon as the sun went down. I never suspected--“ he stopped, gasping, as Billy curled over and licked his nipple. “I thought I’d have a fight on my hands. Didn’t think you’d beat me to it.”

“Then I guess I’d better let you be first at something else,” Billy said, his voice low and dusky. “Lose the shorts already, my love.” He lifted himself off Dom, who quickly got rid of his only stitch of clothing. Dom started to pull at Billy’s pants as well, but Billy stopped him. “No, can we leave them for now? It’s nice and cool.”

“Of course, love,” Dom reached up to stroke Billy’s face, making sure his temperature hadn’t started to rise again. Beyond the normal warmth of arousal, it hadn’t, and Dom’s breath caught as Billy’s eyes captured his, held his as he slowly bent down and softly, sweetly dropped butterfly kisses with his curved lips on Dom’s mouth, his chin, as he cupped Dom’s cheek with one gentle hand. Dom turned his face to press a kiss into Billy’s palm, to lightly nip at the pad of flesh below his thumb.

It was like flipping a switch.

Billy growled, dropped his weight on Dom, grinding their hips and cocks and thighs and bellies together as he covered Dom’s lips with his, tongue racing through Dom’s mouth and sweeping away all thought before the absolute tidal wave of his need. Dom whimpered and moaned into Billy’s mouth, one hand burying itself in Billy’s hair, the other grasping his arse, alternately kneading and pressing down as if to beg for a harder touch. Without relenting on Dom’s mouth, Billy shifted his hips to the side, dragging his cotton-covered cock across Dom’s erection, making him buck up off the bed, searching for something to sink his arousal into and finding it when Billy’s hand wrapped around him. He thrust up off the mattress, driving himself into Billy’s grip, as Billy pumped him, first fast, then slow, then with a little twist that had Dom clawing at the air with one foot, before finally twining his leg around Billy’s and panting little inarticulate cries into Billy’s possessive mouth. It was only a matter of moments before Dom was wrenching his lips from Billy’s to hoarsely beg, “Harder Billy, please, harder.” And when Billy clenched his hand tighter around Dom’s rigid cock, when he pumped him faster, when he hungrily growled, “Fuck me, Dom, fuck my hand, fuck my hand _hard_ ,” against the sweat-beaded skin of Dom’s neck, Dom drove his hips up like a piston, fucking Billy’s hand, and came with a  ragged shout, his hot fluid surging across Billy’s wrist and onto his own stomach as he tautly arched his body against Billy’s.

Billy leaned in and licked Dom’s neck, tasting the salty tang of sweat as he continued to pump Dom’s cock, making him shudder and buck once more before dropping back down against the bed with a groan that with a little effort could have been a deliciously long drawn-out “ _Fuck_.” Billy slowed his hand, but kept going with his up and down and twisting motion, savoring every twitch and judder and jerk that kept wracking Dom’s whole body, until finally Dom flopped to the side, fully spent. Billy released him, smiling, and leaned in for a kiss.  Dom was still panting as Billy kissed his lower lip, gently tugged at it with his teeth, Dom’s breath puffing on his skin, and then Dom was heatedly kissing him back, tongue thrusting in Billy’s mouth as his hand slid up under the leg of Billy’s pants, as far as it could until the pulling fabric stopped him. He bent his fingers to the side, and dragged the pads of two fingers down the side of Billy’s hard cock, making him groan and kiss Dom so hard their teeth scraped together with little snicking sounds.

Dom pulled back then, breathing through his swollen lips, and in a deep, raspy, sultry voice said, “Don’t go anywhere, love.” He got up, the come on his stomach already drying in the heat, and took the washcloth from the bowl, squeezed it out, and laid it on Billy’s forehead for a minute, standing over him with his hand pressed down over it. Billy closed his eyes, gasping out a little sigh, feeling himself sink down into the mattress, feeling as if--if it weren’t for his raging hard-on--he would never want to move again, as long as he could have Dom’s cool hand on his forehead. He hadn’t realized his temperature had gone up a little again.

“See what you do to me?” he murmured, more breath than voice.

Dom chuckled throatily. “Wanna see what else I can do to you?”

Billy moaned and his head fell to the side.

Picking up the cloth, Dom leaned over, gave him a kiss on the forehead, then said, “Give me your right hand.”

Billy held up the hand that was thrown over his head.

“Your other right hand, you twat,” Dom laughed, lowly. He took Billy’s hand when it was offered and, using the damp washcloth, cleaned the dried come off Billy’s wrist. He kissed the translucent skin on the inside of his arm, and released him, leaning over again so his breath ghosted across Billy’s forehead, stirring his hair. “I’ll be right back. And then I’ll take care of you, and you’ll see just what I can do to you.”

Billy groaned and reached up for him, but he was already gone.

A few moments later, Billy sat up, reaching for his water bottle. He drained it within ten seconds. “Dom?” he called.

“I’ll be right there,” Dom yelled back.

“Can you bring another bottle of water?”

“One or two?”

“One’ll do.” Billy laid down again, purposely lying on the large wet patch to cool down. He couldn’t tell if his temperature was still elevated, or if it was just really effing hot. “Dom?”

“I’m coming!”

“No--can you check the thermometer in the hall? What does it say?” One thing neither Billy nor Dom had been able to acclimate to since moving to the US was the bloody Fahrenheit temperatures, so Dom’s mum had posted them a _real_ thermometer as a housewarming gift, one that included Celsius, so they could figure out what the hell the forecasters were predicting.

“Bloody hell--you were right, Bill, it _is_ hot! It’s almost ninety degrees in here!”

“I’m not learning it, Dom, so just quit trying!”

He heard Dom chuckle in the hallway. “Thirty-one, Bills.”

“ _Told_ you it was hot.” Billy rolled over to let his damp backside cool in the air.

“Yes, you’re very smart,” Dom’s voice was further away again.

“Dom?”

“ _What_?”

“Are you planning on coming back any time today, or should I just go ahead and wank off, here?”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” he shouted.

Billy chuckled, and a minute later, just for fun, called, “Dom?”

“Oh my God, I’m going to kill him,” Dom muttered from just outside the door, fully aware he could be heard. He walked into the bedroom, a bottle of water in one hand and a bowl covered with a  fresh dry cloth in the other. He had donned clean pants, obviously out of the dryer as Billy hadn’t yet gotten round to emptying it and putting the clothes away.

Billy tilted his head back to watch Dom walk over to the nightstand and set the bowl down. “What’s that?”

“Never mind. Here’s your water,” He handed over the bottle, and Billy took it, sat up, and drank nearly half, still incredibly thirsty. Dom watched with one eyebrow raised. “You’re going to be sloshing, in a minute.”

“Can’t help it,” Billy panted. “Thirsty.”

“Then drink more. At worst you’ll piss like a racehorse all night,” he grinned.

Billy drank a bit more, then finally put the cap back on the bottle, finished for the moment. Dom took it for him, set it on the floor out of the way, and then rested one knee on the bed, considering Billy.

“What?”

“Just figuring the best way…”

“The best way for what?” Billy asked suspiciously.

Dom put on his best innocent face. “Why, to cool you down, of course. You’re looking awfully flushed again, Bills.”

“And the fact that I still have a hard-on while you are sated and serene has _nothing_ to do with that,” he grumbled. “Are you going to climb on top of me, or do I have to come get you?”

Dom’s smile turned wolfish, and he crawled sinuously on hands and knees to where Billy sat in the middle of the bed, pushed him down, and kissed him fiercely. He pulled back an inch to look at Billy with half-lowered lashes and whispered, “Come get me,” against Billy’s lips.

Billy wordlessly growled, grabbed Dom, and hauled him back down, plunged his tongue into Dom’s open mouth, hands clutching at his waist, at his shoulders, at his arse, frantic in his need to touch Dom, to feel Dom’s skin under his fingers. When Dom moved his mouth off Billy’s to kiss and bite and lick his way from Billy’s jaw to his ear to his neck, Billy raggedly breathed, “Jesus. I love you, my Dom.”

Dom lifted his head to look directly into Billy’s darkly green eyes and quietly say, “I love you too, my Bills.” And lightly, gently kissed his lips. When he climbed off of Billy to his hands and knees again, Billy groaned.

“Where are you going now?”

Dom’s smile was enigmatic. “Turn around, so you’re laying right-way-up on the bed,” he instructed, gesturing Billy to the head of the bed. “In the middle.”

“What, you need room for performance art, or something?” Billy muttered, but did as he was bade.

“You can call it that, if you like. The title of this piece is ‘Oxymoron’.”

“Oi, watch what you’re calling me, Monaghan,” Billy complained, the corner of his mouth quirking.

Dom chuckled as he set the cloth-covered bowl just above and to the right of Billy’s head. “Aren’t you going to ask why it’s called ‘Oxymoron’?” he asked, his voice pitched low, rough.

Billy’s cock twitched at the sound. “W-why?”

“Because I’m going to cool you down while I make you so hot,” Dom rasped. “And I’m going to make you hot while I cool you down.”

Billy groaned, eyes falling closed, erection straining at his damp boxers. He twisted a little on the bed, not even aware he was doing it, until Dom’s fingers were at his waist and were tugging the pants down, and Billy arched up, both to let him pull them down, get them out of the way, and to try and brush his cock against Dom’s hand.

“Keep your eyes closed,” Dom commanded.

Billy shifted impatiently as Dom moved from Billy’s feet up the bed to kneel beside his left shoulder. “Dom,” he moaned. He heard the shiver of cloth being lifted from the bowl, heard a sound that was familiar, but it took a minute to place, and before the thought really triggered any--“Fuck!” he cried, bowing up off the bed as an icy almost-pain startled him, dead-centre on his chest.

“Gonna cool you down, Bills,” Dom promised huskily as he slowly slid the ice cube in circles on Billy’s chest. It had been sitting in water, was already slightly melted, smooth and glassy, and left chilled skin and water where it traveled. Dom kept it in motion, never letting it rest in any one spot for too long, and leaned down to lick at the moisture it left behind.

Billy shuddered. “God--bloody hell, Dom--“

“Is it making you hot, Billy?” Dom murmured against his wet skin.

Billy writhed. “ _Fuck_ \--“

“Do you need more ice, Billy?” He stroked it down Billy’s ribs, breathed in deeply as Billy twisted, arms rising up over his head to clench into the pillow, the small of his back lifting off the bed, his cock erect.

“Yes,” he breathed, then gasped sharply as Dom added a second ice cube to his hand, the spot of glacial fire growing and sweeping up to his neck and it was almost too cold there, but then Dom’s warm tongue followed, soothed, stoked his need. “Dom--“

Dom switched the ice cubes to his other hand, kept them sliding and swirling across Billy’s skin as he put the cold wet hand he’d just freed palm down onto Billy’s hot forehead, and Billy’s moan was enough to make Dom’s sated cock twitch again. He held his hand there for a moment, until the heat from Billy’s skin had warmed his fingers up again, then reached down to take one ice cube in each hand, and start stroking them around separately. The one ice cube, the first one he’d started with, was almost gone, so he dropped the chip back in the bowl and fished out another one. With their house as hot as it was, they weren’t going to last much longer, but that was okay, because neither was Billy. Dom shuffled on his knees, lifted one leg to straddle Billy’s thighs, and slippily ran the ice down and across his hip bones, down to the shallow hollows on either side of his clenched arse as Billy tried to thrust up, only raising slightly against Dom’s weight on his thighs, cold water dripping down and being absorbed by the already damp sheet.

“Dom,” he panted, head tossing to the side, “Jesus, Dom, please, touch me.”

Dom ran the ice up Billy’s chest once more, across his nipples, making Billy hiss and arch his back off the mattress, and then he shifted down, still straddling Billy’s legs, his weight on his knees instead of on Billy, dragging the ice cubes down as he went. Despite the extended foreplay, he wanted to make Billy come fairly quickly, because now that the ice was nearly gone and the water drying off his skin, there was nothing to keep him cool, and Dom didn’t want to risk Billy’s temperature rising _too_ much again. And there was one sure way of making Billy come quickly when he was this hard, this aroused.

“Fuck, Dom,” Billy moaned. “Fucking touch me, Dom, please--“ His words were abruptly cut off as he sharply gasped, loudly groaned, thrust up into Dom’s mouth when lips suddenly surrounded his cock.

Dom kept the last slivers of ice circling on Billy’s sides, on his hips, Dom’s weight on his elbows and knees, as he sucked at Billy’s erection, tasting Billy’s sex and desire, before he slid his mouth up and down a few times, lips wetly slicking over Billy’s cock. The ice was gone, but Dom kept rubbing his hands across Billy’s skin, his fingers still cool, as he took Billy as deeply into his mouth as he could.

“Dom--God, Dom--oh, you feel so good, love,” Billy panted, writhing, the heel of one foot digging into the mattress as the toes of the other tried to grasp the taut sheet. “I’m almost there, Dom, oh _fuck_ \--“

Dom shifted one now-warmed hand down to grasp the base of Billy’s cock, fingers pumping as his tongue swiped across the swollen head of his erection, and then he dropped over him again, lips meeting his own fingers, and he sucked hard, cheeks hollowing.

Billy came with a rasping, gasping moan, bucking and arching off the bed, trying to bury himself deep in Dom’s hot tight mouth as Dom continued to suck, to swallow, to pump with his hand. The orgasm that seized his body--every muscle clenched tight, back bowed up off the bed--didn’t last long, which was probably for the best, as Billy collapsed  under Dom, weak and panting as it was. “Bloody hell,” he managed, winded.

Dom gave Billy’s softening cock one last swirl with his tongue, then crawled up to throw himself down beside him, leaning in for a kiss.

Billy kissed him hard, hungrily, tasting himself on Dom’s tongue, but only for a moment, then dropped his head again, breathless. “Ta, love.”

Dom put a hand on Billy’s forehead, then frowned at the heat he felt there. “Bugger. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that.”

Billy shook his head, smiling. “No. ‘S good. Just blood returning to the rest of my body.”

“You sure, Bills? Here, hang on.” Dom crawled up the bed a bit until he could reach the bowl. He poured some of the water from Billy’s bottle into it, soaked and wrung the cloth that had covered it, and slid back down to lay it across Billy’s eyes and forehead. “Just relax for a bit, yeah?”

Billy sighed contentedly. “If I must. If you’re going to _force_ me like this.”

Dom chuckled. “Yeah, I’m such a bastard.”

“You are.” Billy paused. “It is really hot, isn’t it, Dom?”

“Yeah, Bills, it really is.”

“Fucking air conditioning,” he grumbled.

Dom ran his fingers through Billy’s damp hair. “Hopefully after dark it’ll cool down enough that we can open the windows and sleep with the fan on.”

“How long ‘til dark?”

“Just a few hours.”

“Good.” Billy paused again. “Dom?”

“Yeah, Bills?”

“That wasn’t an oxymoron, you know. Cooling me down while you make me hot. That was a contradiction.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Billy smiled.

“Oh. So what’s an oxymoron?”

“Jumbo shrimp. Military Intelligence. Airplane food. That sort of thing.”

“Oh.” Dom considered that. “I like the name oxymoron better anyway.”

Billy chuckled. “You would.” A minute later, he again said, “Dom?”

“Yeah Bills?”

“I’m hungry. Sort of.”

Dom smiled, pleased. “Are you? That’s good, considering you lost everything you ate earlier.”

“Yeah. What have we got to eat that isn’t hot? Or…greasy. Or rich would be bad, too.”

“Something cold, light, and not greasy, hmm?” Dom thought for a moment, trying to picture the contents of their refrigerator. “How about a little sandwich? And I think there might be grapes.”

Billy smiled happily. “Oh, that sounds good.”

Dom kissed his cheek, then got up. “One sandwich coming up.”

Billy sat up, pulling the cloth off his eyes. “No, love, I didn’t mean you had to make it, I just wanted to know what we had--“

He laughed quietly. “I know, you silly wee cunt. I don’t mind getting it, you relax.”

Contrary to relaxing, Billy got to his feet and walked over to Dom, walked into Dom, wrapping his arms around him and pressing his warm forehead against Dom’s neck. “You mean the world to me, you know that don’t you?” he whispered against the hollow of his throat.

Surprised, touched, Dom hugged Billy tightly to him. “I know. Oh, I know, my love.” He leaned his head against Billy’s, rocked him back and forth a bit. “Me too, my Bills.” They stayed like that for a few minutes, embracing tightly, until sweat started to form between sticky skin. Dom let go of him, turned him around, gave him a gentle shove on the arse. “Lay down, Billy. On your stomach.”

“But--“

“Go.” Dom followed him over to the bed, waited until he was stretched out full-length on his stomach, then rewetting the cloth in the bowl, he lightly squeezed it out, and draped it over the back of Billy’s neck and shoulders. “Stay there,” he ordered with a smile. “Relax, love. I’ll be back in a few minutes with your sandwich.”

“Ta very much, love,” Billy mumbled into the mattress.

Dom went to the kitchen, and whistling some song off the radio that was lodged in his head, he set about making Billy a turkey sandwich with the whole-grain bread Billy liked, moistening it just enough with some margarine and a touch of mayonnaise, and cutting it in half. He found the grapes, dumped a whole bunch on the side of the plate and started to head for the bedroom. Checked up, returned to the kitchen, grabbed another bottle of water, and then took it in to Billy.

“Here you go, love,” he said cheerfully, setting the bottle down on the nightstand.

Billy sighed deeply, and his hand twitched on the sheet, one finger straightening spasmodically as if in a secret gesture.

Dom paused, then, smiling, leaned over to look at Billy’s face. Just as he suspected--fast asleep, eyelashes trembling on his cheeks, his lips slightly parted. Dom reached down with his free hand, pulled the wet cloth a little higher up Billy’s neck to make sure it would stay in place, then stood over him, watching for a moment, protective, while he absently picked up the sandwich off the plate and started eating.


End file.
